Grave Song
by LupinePhyre909
Summary: It's almost dark... this happens every night. No one knows why. No one questions it. No one admits to hearing the Grave Song.


(My computer doesn't like me. If the spacing turns out weird, as in nonexistent, I'm sorry. -.-; I'm trying to fix it.)

**Grave Song**

Over the hills and far away, a castle stands like a beacon against a fiery sky. The blood red of the setting sun drags stained fingers over the tallest spire, none too eager to relinquish its hold on the world below. In the high, arched window of that tallest spire, a figure is leaning, watching the sun as it dies with a shriek of scarlet-gold defiance.

A haunted smile crosses the figure's face, whispered into life by a memory of defiance similar to the sun's. Unlike the sunset, though, the dreamer in the window still has scars to remember herself by. When the velvet blanket of the night settles in around her castle, she half-turns from her post, debating, watching, confirming that she is alone.

It isn't that she's shy, like a blushing princess waiting for her prince - no, this woman is a warrior, more prone to breaking bones than breaking hearts. It's just that she doesn't want her subjects thinking she's gone soft and trying to usurp her rule - or at least, that's what she tells herself. The real reason she wants no one around her is lost in the hushing sigh of the rising moon. When she senses no one close enough to hear her, she tilts her head back toward the open window and closes her fearsome eyes as best she can without feeling too suspicious. Slowly, softly, a hum starts in her chest and becomes a voice, low and oddly peaceful despite her biting words.

_These heavy chains have held me _

_cradled in their iron-clad arms _

_These suffocating bars have left me _

_Only imprints on my aching back _

_The gray and countless years I spent _

_Dreaming in my waking hours _

_Was it just survival, was it a romantic fool's last hope? _

_Tell me if you can. _

_If you understand, then sing to me _

_A sweeter song than this _

_I only know this one grim melody _

_The six-feet grave song of the afflicted. _

_The color is ebbing from my eyes _

_The laughter stolen from my lips _

_They say that everything worldly dies _

_Is it so wrong to want to live? _

_These shackles bend my back _

_They're king behind the scenes _

_Their rule more merciless than an angry god's _

_So break me, if you can. _

_If you understand, then sing to me _

_A braver song than this _

_I only know this coward's melody _

_The six-feet grave song of the afflicted. _

_Dying here and wasting away _

_When all I wanted was to live _

_How cruelly amusing this waking world is _

_Does a special hell for tormentors exist? _

_Let me die in bitterness then, _

_And lay sleeping with my waking dreams _

_Strew deadly nightshade on my grave _

_And tell me stories, if you can. _

_If you understand, then sing to me _

_A stronger song than this. _

_I only know this one weak melody _

_The six-feet grave song of the afflicted. _

_Sing to me if you can... _

_Or let the silence kill me. _

Then the hypnotic lilt and haunting timbre of her voice are gone, but she does not open her eyes again, teeth ground stubbornly against a sudden chill. Because although the night is warm, the memory of the iron kiss of shackles on her wrists is colder than the coldest heart. The sensation does not fade, no matter how many nights she stands at the window, surveying her kingdom. But she still keeps her vigil every night without fail, despite the fact that the Grave Song reminds her of what she was all too well. Her reasons for the almost-masochistic wake are held so far beneath the surface, they nearly fade away entirely like flimsy paper thrown in water.

But vaguely she recalls a reminder of who she is, what her purpose is, how she got to this point in time. And it makes her strong again, a stone wall against the stormy world outside. She is herself again, a ruler with a level head and an unconquerable will. With a small, slightly satisfied half-smile, she turns from the window and her memories, leaving the Grave Song to echo gently through the darkened skies.

...

A/N: Kinda depressing? Nyeh, didn't want to put it in angst though, because really it's not that sad. AU-ish, maybe. Definitely easier to guess this one than 'Bruises' was. :P This game amuses me. There's definitely more in the works. Cleaned up my stories list... ugh, should've done that weeks ago. *headdesk* Feedback appreciated. :)


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